


Antidote

by stateofintegrity



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M, Prescription Drug Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24370411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity
Summary: An expansion of the episode, “Dr. Winchester and Mr. Hyde.” Charles learns that not every antidote comes out of a bottle.
Relationships: Maxwell Klinger/Charles Emerson Winchester III
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	Antidote

“Klinger! What are you doing here!?” He sounded angry, but Klinger had already seen the tears shining on his cheeks.

Ignoring his rage, Klinger slid down the wall to sit beside him. “If you wanted privacy, you should have gone for the rock wall outside the minefield, Major.”

“I would say I will remember that for next time, but I do not intend to allow this place to reduce me to a similar state ever again.” 

“Here.” The Corporal extended a handkerchief that was patterned, Winchester found it absurd to notice, but did, with red hyacinth which made him think of Eliot and the cruelest month and how he was trapped in the cruelest place- and that just made him cry harder.

When he quieted, Klinger asked, “It’s the pills, isn’t it? The ones you wouldn’t give to me?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“In camp, before. You weren’t acting like yourself. I mentioned it to the other guys in the Swamp but they said not to worry, you’d find your way back.”  _ Climb back out of the pill bottle _ , was the way they’d phrased it.

“Ah. So, have you come here to call me a hypocrite?” He sounded miffed, but the truth was that if Klinger spoke those words, they would probably undo him all over again. Extreme depression was a side effect of the tiny, round mistakes he’d swallowed, and sadness now buffeted him in waves.

“Nope. If you spared me all that I’m even grateful. How come you didn’t take your own advice?” Winchester was a study in misery. His impeccable grooming had been replaced by rumbled, sweat-stained clothes and stubble; his eyes were tear-bright and defenseless.

It was terrible to admit, but he had already found rock bottom. Why not keep digging? “I... I felt ashamed. I couldn’t keep up with the others.”

Klinger clapped him on the shoulder. “Nobody can at first. You just got here. Cut yourself some slack.”

Charles’ voice was very small. “Thank you.”

“Hey, you’re shivering, Major. Come on.” He stood and offered him a hand up.

“Corporal, I have no wish to return to the Swamp.”

“I won’t make you. I just want you to get warm.” He led him through a twisting maze of boxes and crates and shelves to a wall of metal set off from the main area and sheltered by what looked like bales of leaves in the dim light. “Camouflage netting,” Klinger explained when he saw him staring. With a few quick movements, he snapped the bearings of a metal cot into place and threw down a mattress and a pile of blankets. “We all need a hiding place sometimes, Major.”

Feeling bewildered and battered, Charles climbed gratefully into the meager comfort provided by the army’s idea of bedding; he even allowed Klinger to pile thin brown blankets over him until he resembled an insect overwintering in autumn foliage. “I hope you feel better real soon,” Klinger told him, preparing to go.

Charles reached out. “Wait. Max, would you stay with me, just for a little while? I’m afraid if I’m left alone the pills might once more seem like a solution.”

Having run up against Winchester pride, Klinger knew what it cost him to ask. “Sure thing.” He took a seat beside the cot.

“No, no, please,” Charles gestured for him to come up. “There’s room enough - at least if Hunnicutt and Pierce are to be believed.”

Klinger laughed. “I wouldn’t trust Hawkeye if I were you. He got sixteen people into a jeep once!” Still, he climbed in and they made an effort at redistributing the covers. In the process, Klinger got an eyeful of another aspect of the overuse of amphetamines. The low light made it hard to see Charles’ blush, but he felt the heat of it.

“That from the pills, too?”

“Yes. A rather painful side effect, I fear.” He made an attempt at humor that he didn’t feel. “Though one that should serve to keep me from repeating any pharmaceutical experiments in the future.” In his current, muddled state, he was hard pressed to say whether he was more embarrassed by his tears or by this unwanted physical reaction.

Klinger wondered how he hadn’t noticed it when they were sitting together on the floor. Painful. He turned the word in his head. Did Charles think he deserved that pain? Deserved to suffer because he’d made a mistake? Klinger rolled off the bunk and stood.

“Where are you going?”

“Just to grab something. Hold tight.”

Something turned out to be the oil used to keep the moving parts of firearms in working condition. Charles watched as Klinger applied the shining stuff to the fingers of his right hand.

“You... Klinger, what are you doing?”

The Corporal lowered the Major’s zipper. “I think you’d better call me Max for this, Charles.”

_ I could stop this. I should. _

Klinger read the panic on his face. “Take it easy,” he soothed, fingers closing, stroking his length. “You can trust me. Let me help.”

“Max...” Sweat rolled down his furrowed brow; emotions tangled in his mind and battled in his breast. Then the truth came out. “... hurts...”

“Not for long. Just relax and let me get you there.” He offered a teasing smile. “I’ve been here for a long, lonely year. I’ve had lots of practice.”

Charles still felt he should protest, but the oil was already spilled and Klinger’s hand felt better than it had any right to, gripping tighter on the upstroke, teasing his sac, making him feel real - a feeling he’d dearly missed since being reassigned to Korea. 

“Max...”

“Mmm?” Klinger’s questioning hum had a note of enjoyment in it; he was losing himself a little as the Major unraveled under his care.

Winchester didn’t know how to ask for what he wanted. In a normal situation, he would have initiated the desired act; the drugs weren’t helping, either. His pulse was hurtling along and his emotions felt unmoored from what was happening to his body.

Klinger slowed to look him in the eye. “Go ahead,” he urged. “Whatever it is, Major, I’m going to say yes.”

Disbelief made the word burst out of him. “Why!?!”

Klinger kept at his task, steady and slow, but smiled. “Because we have enough pain here without you hurting yourself for no good reason. Because I’m here. Because I don’t know if this rotten war in this rotten place is going to give me another excuse to touch you. So ask me, Charles.”

He closed his eyes in hopes that doing so would numb his emotions somewhat and said, “Please kiss me while you’re doing that.”

Klinger was more than happy to make the arrangements that would allow him to join their mouths. Covering them both with the blankets, he gave his mouth over to Winchester even as his hand found him again.

This wasn’t at all how Klinger had expected to spend the night and he hated what Winchester had gone and done to himself. But seeing the taller, broader man thrash and tremble for him... “You’re wonderful, Major,” he whispered into Charles’ neck.

It was absolutely the last thing Winchester expected to hear. Every step he’d taken in Korea since arriving felt like a  _ misstep _ . He was only getting to enjoy Klinger’s expert caress because he’d made a mistake he would have scorned in a first year medical student. But whatever the dark dialogue in the doctor’s mind, Klinger didn’t let up. He praised the feel of him, the sound of him; he might have even praised his taste, but their tongues were too tangled at the time for Winchester to distinguish the words.

It all felt amazingly good, but thanks to the pills he continued to remain hard, enflamed, hovering on the edge. “I’m sorry,” he told Klinger after he had come near to climax again but failed to reach it.

“Don’t worry about it. We have all night.” He continued to stroke him, as much to ease him as to urge him on. Winchester breathed faster, panting - then groaning as the end remained elusive.

Klinger snuggled against him, caressed his arm. “Stop fighting so hard, huh? It’ll happen.”

Charles didn’t listen at first. He strained, sweated, groaned again. Klinger gave him an indulgent smile. “What’s the rush, beautiful? Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Max? No, of course not!”

“I’m teasing you, Major.”

“Sorry - only… it hurts.”

“I know.” Klinger stroked his hair. “It’s going to - but take it slow, huh?”

Charles looked at him with something close to wonder. “How do you know how to do this? To  _ take care  _ of me?”

“Major, when I’m not hauling litters, I’m a nurse. Haven’t you seen the outfit?” He winked. 

Charles squeezed his eyes shut.  _ If that image doesn’t end me, nothing will _ . “Klinger, I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but is there any chance you’d get that hat?” 

Klinger loved his outfits. A lover that wanted to see him in them? He couldn’t have asked for anything more. “Don’t move.” 

He returned in full costume; Charles sucked in a breath. That skirt was tight. So tight.  _ I am not letting him walk back across the camp like that,  _ he swore,  _ he’ll be mobbed!  _

Klinger smiled, and though it was a little shy, the way he got right back in with him wasn’t. Charles had lost all semblance of shyness, too. When Klinger reached for him he nodded, eyes pleading. The Corporal grasped him, responded to each cue he was given, but sank down when release failed to arrive. 

“Shhh,” Klinger said, feeling his frustration. “Easy.” And then without Charles knowing exactly how it could even be happening, he was lowering himself onto him. 

“You can’t!” 

Klinger’s head went back as he maneuvered into place. Sweat beaded his brow. “Sure I can. I left my underwear off just in case you’d let me.”

“Let? As in ‘allow’? Good God, Klinger!”

The Corporal grinned even as he ground down. “Thanks for the rave review, Major.” He continued to slowly align them, to find a rhythm. When Charles answered his motions with his hips, he broke into a smile. “That’s it. Let me feel you.” 

He sounded so earnest, so hungry for Charles’ pleasure. Previously, Winchester had wondered how the Corporal could be so kind. Now he wondered how he could be so generous. “Maxwell...” The other man’s name was a keening sound in his throat; hearing it, Klinger gave his signature brilliant smile — and he held him as the end came.

He was still holding on when Winchester surfaced into a balmy afterglow, pain gone, depression lifted. “Thank you,” he whispered, humbled.

“No thanks necessary, Major. I wanted to do it. Are you okay now, you think? To rest I mean?”

Charles knew what he was asking.  _ Are you free of it _ ?

“Yes. But if I ever feel the need again, may I call on you for the antidote?”

Klinger’s eyes lit up. “You mean... you want this to be a thing? Us? I was only trying to help - you don’t have to...”

Charles interrupted his stumbling words with a very sure kiss. “I’m not speaking out of  _ obligation _ , Max. You’re the first thing in Korea that’s brought me any true happiness. If you think I’m giving that up, you’re mad. Unless you would prefer our encounter to be a singular one?”

“Not if you don’t! It’ll be nice to get together when you’re feeling like your old self.”

“Darling, it will be a day or two before that occurs. I’ve no intention of making you wait that long. Come here.” 

Klinger allowed himself to be gathered up, soft sounds spilling from him as Winchester learned every hollow and plane of him. The surgeon laid him down on his side. One hand stroked his back while the other worked to undress him. His mouth mapped a path from the curve of his neck to his chest, from his chest to his trembling stomach, from his stomach to his thighs. Klinger’s head rolled side to side. “You don’t have to, Major,” he murmured and Charles sat up. 

“Klinger, are you under the mad impression that you’re forcing me to do something? This isn’t repayment. I want to do everything with you… to you, also, provided it pleases you. Now, may I return to my previous engagement or would something else please you more?” 

Klinger just nodded, then tried not to scream as he was taken into Charles’ throat. Aching and wrung out by the pills and the sweet cure he was swallowing, Winchester expected to be anything but at his best. But just as Klinger had been exceptional enough to offer comfort in this comfortless world, he was also singular in the depth of care he inspired. Charles had never wanted to please someone as badly as he wanted to please Klinger now; he wasn’t after release - he wanted to ruin the fine, quivering form for any other touch. Klinger showed no sign that he minded being ruined. His hips lifted, asking for greater depth or increased speed - anything that would finish him. When he was through, the Corporal looked every bit as wrecked as the man to whom he’d played caretaker - if for a much more pleasant reason! 

Charles chuckled at him just the same, when he sighed happily and collapsed across him, unwilling to lose the feel of him even for a moment.  _ Welcome to Korea,  _ the Major thought laughingly to himself. It would be difficult to rise to the level of Pierce and Hunnicutt and a real challenge to stay there, but with Klinger to soothe and cherish him after surgery, he thought he could make it. 

***

The next day when Pierce asked after him, he dismissed him with his usual show of superiority. He heard the chief surgeon tell Hunnicutt that he was back to normal and hid a smile in his coffee cup. The truth was that he was better than ever, having developed a newer and safer addiction to supplement the pills he’d foolishly taken. Across the mess, Klinger caught his eye and winked, and Charles knew that if the hated announcement of “Choppers!” came, he’d be able to match his fellow surgeons hour after hour. 

End! 

  
  



End file.
